


The Ghost of a Smile

by ajremix



Series: The Ghost of a Smile [1]
Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-28
Updated: 2014-05-28
Packaged: 2018-01-26 20:42:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,239
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1701857
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ajremix/pseuds/ajremix
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU in which York received Epsilon and Carolina received Delta.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Ghost of a Smile

She can feel York's arm flexing under her, the clench and stretch of fingers attempting to chase away the needles that ran static over his nerves, but Carolina was too comfortable to bother moving. And despite the limb falling asleep on him, York was too comfortable to move her.

"Tomorrow's the implantation," he said.

"Yeah."

"You worried?"

"Not really," she told him. But he heard it in her voice as much as he felt it in her hand resting against his chest and her leg drawing lazily between his own. She wasn't worried about herself or him, but what they were together. Worried enough that she had dragged York to her quarters and lost herself in him like she'd never done before. In case she'd never be able to again because they'd both have someone else floating in the back of their heads and that might be enough to change this. Change everything.

York's arm came up, cradling Carolina's back as he rolled into her. Her shoulder was hard against his palm, muscles in her side just as hard as she pushed back into him. But the skin at her throat was thin and when York kissed it, he could feel her breath fluttering against his lips. "So you don't mind going one more round?"

Carolina didn't say anything, just hooked her hands over his shoulder blades and rolled onto her back, easily taking York's weight.

~*~*~*~

They received their AIs, one after another, and were sent back to their respective quarters to recuperate and acclimate. The first night was a torment of numbers, probability, statistics and laws and Carolina slept fitfully, words lining her brain with green. The second night she felt well enough to not want to be alone with the hollow voice and faceless helmet that now shadowed her. She snuck into York and Maine's quarters [number lock. inefficient. prints can be dusted. gloss finish worn down shows numbers used. number combinations limited.] and let the door close behind her, letting her eyes adjust to the low lighting. Maine's rack was empty- probably out trying to make sense of the sudden fullness in his bran, just as she was.

In the second bed was a lump- miserable and curled up tight. She went to it, where the covers were pulled up and cinched over something head-shaped and put a hand against something that felt like shoulder. Patiently, methodically, Carolina worked her hands into the bunched creases of the blanket until she could pull it loose, opening up York's fists where they were still tucked out of sight and pushed the material back to see his face.

York's good eye focused on her and something not-her, too bright, too blue in the half-dark of the room. His lips parted so he could croak out, "Allison...?"

Carolina's hands stilled, giving enough time for her second mind to supply, [hallucination. disorientation. reacting badly to implantation. possible complication from dehydration.]

She ran a hand over his forehead and down his cheek, the skin feeling feverish and tight. "I'm going to get you some water. Are you going to be okay, or should I call a medic?"

His hands clamped around her wrist tight enough that he would've left bruises had Carolina not trained that weakness out of herself. "Don't," he said, looking at not-her more than her. "Don't go. Stay. Please."

He was begging. He was begging and his eyes were wide and frighteningly blue and Carolina had never seen York beg before and it kind of scared her. "Alright," she said lowly, more for herself than him. "I'll stay." She climbed into the bed where York wrapped his arms tight around her waist, mumbling apologies and pleas and a name that wasn't hers all the while. Carolina turned her back to him and York pressed against her, lips against the vertebrae connecting neck to spine.

"I'm sorry. I love you. Don't leave me. Please don't leave me again. Come back. Come back. I love you." He said over and over as if his words could seep under her skin and imprint themselves like a tattoo.

A tattoo that wasn't meant for her.

"Allison."

~*~*~*~

She woke up before York which wasn't a surprise and stepped into the shower, washing away the stress of the previous day.

[bathing does not clean beyond your physical body.]

A brief stream of cooler air slipped in among the steam as the door opened and closed. "There room for one more in there?"

"It's going to be awkward when you realize I'm not Maine."

"You forgot who you're talking to- I'm never awkward."

"No, I just forgot you need shame for that." Carolina pulled back the door to the shower and gave York's body an appraising look- already stripped and eager to join her. "Get in."

They were good, for once. York was more interested in scrubbing Carolina's back and massaging her shoulders than anything else. When they switched, York ducking his head so Carolina could wash his hair, he asked, "You stayed the night?"

"You don't remember?"

"Not really. Got a helluva headache from this AI. Barely remember a thing after the implantation."

She hummed in reply, giving York a shampoo mohawk because he hated that he couldn't give her one no matter how he tried. "You had a pretty rough night." Carolina guided his head to the water stream, washing out the suds. "So you don't remember me coming over, but you knew I was in the shower?"

A silence stretched between them as York stood straight, slicking his hair back and running the water from his face. "Even if I can't keep up, I always know where you are." At her dubious expression, York laughed, tugging on a lock of red hair until Carolina was close enough for him to kiss the strands. "It's because I'm always thinking of you."

She chuckled, low and in her chest where her laughter was kept locked until moments like that. "I don't know if that's sweet or creepy."

"It's sweet so long as you're okay with it." Their gaze met and York's eye was the gray-blue it had always been and focused on Carolina and nothing but and it stole her breath every damn time. He kissed her, the softness of his mouth contrasting his weight pressing her against the tiles until they were imprinted on her back. Carolina's hands slicked over his back, his hips, squeezing where his legs met his ass, cradling it like it was her favorite place to hold him, making York groan against her. The memory of a broken man chasing another woman's name was utterly forgotten.

~*~*~*~

Once back to full duty their training was tailored to fully integrating with their AI. Delta, while hardly a seamless integration, was easy for Carolina to get along with. They'd spend nights debating the best way for Delta to assist her and how Carolina could better delegate her team.

She tried explaining to York how Delta felt in her head once. Like a complex shape made of simple lines all lit up in green.

When she asked York what Epsilon was like, he was silent for a long moment before saying with a smile, as if the irony were about to make him sick, "I guess... he's like a ghost."

~*~*~*~

While Carolina didn't question the Director, she had to wonder if perhaps some of these partnerships were worth it. North and Theta got along wonderfully- perhaps even better than her and Delta. She saw little of Gamma, but Wyoming seemed to have little trouble with him and Maine and Sigma had their rough spots, but were slowly excelling.

York and Epsilon, however, were rough more often than not. He'd zone out, jump at nothing and snap at others randomly.

Wash told Carolina, voice low and arms held close to his body like he was afraid he'd be overheard, "You know- when I offered to give Maine Sigma so he could talk with us, I was mainly doing it to be nice. But now I don't think I'd be comfortable having one of those things in my head."

Her voice was stern and cold, even as her eyes tracked York where he sat, by himself, in a hunch across the room. "He's still adjusting. He'll be fine."

"Sure, Boss. If you say so."

"He'll be fine."

He had to be.

~*~*~*~

FILSS announced the end of the training run, obstacles pulled back into the walls and floor as various agents stood, stretching out their battered bodies as best as the hardened paint allowed.

The harsh ring of, "Agents," proceeded the Director, hands behind his back and eyes hard behind his glasses. They fell in line in obedient attention, awaiting his verdict. "We cannot afford to waste time. Every day our enemies draw closer and we _must_ be prepared."

Delta rattled off in Carolina's head, [accuracy: 96%. reaction time .3% faster than previous training run. injury to team: within acceptable limits. injuries due to your orders: projected minimal.]

Movement in her peripheral vision caught her attention: York. There was something off about his stance, in the set of his shoulders and angle of his helmet and Carolina's hand lashed out, grabbing his wrist before he could move. For a moment she felt his gauntlet strain against her grip and Carolina thought he might struggle, but York didn't move. Just stood there, still looking like someone else wearing his body.

"Integration with AI is what will win this war. Your adjustment period is over. Your scores _will_ continue to improve."

"Yessir," she said promptly, answering for the team. "Understood."

The Director eyed her for a moment and Carolina held her breath, as if that would keep him from noticing how close she suddenly was to York. [illogical. respiration has little to no bearing on such things.]

In the end he merely turned and left. The other agents followed the director's lead, talking amongst themselves as they scrubbed at the paint on their armor.

"Hey," Wash called back, "you guys coming?"

Carolina's fingers twitched where they anchored York's wrist down, out of view from anyone else. "We'll catch up." When the room was empty, Carolina leaned her head in and said lowly, "York- let go."

His own helmet turned toward her, as if he was surprised she was there. "What?"

Her grip tightened. "Let go, York." She enunciated each word as if she were afraid he might miss one.

York looked down at his arm and found a pistol clutched at the end of it, loaded, safety off, finger against the trigger. He drew in a breath like he hadn't known what his own body was about to do. "What- how did-"

A hand, clad in black and turquoise, wrapped around the weapon and pulled it gently from his hand. "It's okay," Carolina said, not looking away from him as she clicked the safety and removed the chambered round- a paint pellet but still potentially dangerous against an unarmored target. 

"I... I don't... I don't _remember_."

She kept the pistol at her side, the one away from York, and pulled him toward the locker room. "It's okay. Don't worry about it."

[given previous observations, epsilon is likely influencing agent new york. probability of a repeat event: high.]

Carolina filled his emptied hand with her own. "It's nothing to worry about."

~*~*~*~

She was losing him. To what, Carolina didn't exactly know, just that the part York that made him York- the part that laughed and spouted off bad jokes and even worse pick-up lines, the part that opened locks like it was a magic trick and whined against Carolina's shoulder until she paid attention to him -was being swamped by something else. By something sullen and angry and unfocused. By Epsilon.

When he wasn't bombing another training exercise, York couldn't be near anyone, accusing them of trying to hurt him, of trying to hurt _her_. Allison. The name he called Carolina more often than her own now.

She cradled York's head against her chest, half curling around him. The only way he slept these days was with medication. Carolina pressed her lips against his hair and kept them there, trying to figure out how to bring him back to her.

~*~*~*~

"Are you sure you're okay with this?"

Maine growled, inclining his head affirmative. Sigma put Carolina on edge. Sigma put _everyone_ on edge, even Delta. She wondered if Maine liked his AI or not. She wondered if maybe the entire Project had been a mistake.

"Thanks." She told him, and waited until Maine had bunked down, turning his back to give the illusion of privacy. Carolina had been spending the past two weeks in his and York's quarters and both had finally decided to stop pretending she was ever going to sleep in her own again. Because York had been having screaming nightmares and babbled nonsense to himself and Carolina was the only one that had the patience to get through to him anymore. She knelt next to him and took his hands in hers. "York? It's time to sleep. You need to take your medicine to keep the dreams away."

"Not dreams," he muttered, his right eye almost as pale as his left. "Memories."

Carolina pressed the pills and a glass of water into York's hands. "Sleep. Everything will be okay."

"No, it won't." He swallowed it all regardless. "Not so long as we're here. Not until we find the Alpha."

"Sleep." She said again because she didn't know what else to do anymore.

~*~*~*~

Carolina didn't remember waking up, just knew that she was and that someone was staring at her in the dark. The dim lights gleamed dully off York's open eyes and Carolina put her hand to his cheek, feeling where the skin had grown tight and thin, face gaunt. "What is it?" She asked in a hush. "Do you need more pills?"

"No." His voice was low and rough, like he'd forgotten how to use it. "I'm sorry, Carolina."

Her eyes sharpened on his and it was him. It was him staring back at her in a broken, focused gray-blue that she had almost forgotten what it look like. His name almost came out as a sob. "York."

"I'm sorry," he told her again, hand against her wrist and lips thin. "I don't know... I can't, I'm sorry."

"No. No, don't. You'll be okay." Her hands raked through his hair, fingernails scratching over strands turning gray against his temples. "You'll get through this."

York pressed his forehead against hers and Carolina could see the truth in the bags beneath sunken eyes, in the way she could already see him slipping away again. "No. I won't."

She kissed him. Desperately. Like it would be the last kiss they'd ever share again. "I love you."

"I'm sorry."

They fell asleep with Carolina desperate to remember the feel of York's weight against her.

~*~*~*~

"You. You did this to me."

The Director's head snapped up, the light of the screen making his blue eyes brighter through his glasses. "What are you doing here?" There wasn't a point asking how they'd gotten in his private office. Not when the intruder was York.

Or at least something with York's body and the ability to access his talents because it was someone else that stared at the Director through one wild eye. "You did this. You put these memories in my head. You made me watch her die."

"Agent-"

" _You wouldn't let me save her_!"

The breath froze in the Director's lungs. "...how much do you know?"

"She promised she'd come back. But she's never going to. I'll never get to tell Allison how much I love her. I'll never get to hold her again. I'll never have the chance to marry her."

The Director's knuckles were pressed so hard against the desk they turned white, eyes never leaving the tight clench of York's jaw or the trembling line of his mouth.

"I can't save her," a click and an arm raised. At the end was a pistol. "But I can save the Alpha."

~*~*~*~

Carolina woke to an empty bed and knew something was wrong. The Councilor called the team in before morning chow and announced, "Agent New York's body was found early this morning. An investigation is underway, but initial reports rule it as suicide."

The universe ceased to make sense and threatened to tilt sideways and swallow Carolina whole. The Councilor talked about how shocking it all must be and that anyone that wished could see him for grief counciling. Carolina just stood there, trying not to cry inside her helmet.

~*~*~*~

Delta had stayed quiet during the trip, but once they'd reach planet side, slipping through the first of what would surely be countless cities abandoned and ravaged by war, it finally spoke up.

[you're certain leaving the program was necessary?]

"You didn't complain when I first brought it up," Carolina replied as she popped open a locked door with one of York's lockpicks. The only thing she had managed to smuggle out of his quarters before all his belongings were confiscated for 'investigation'.

[i am merely ensuring this is not purely done out of grief.]

She tucked the lockpick away securely, a weight she could almost fool herself into believe she felt. "Trust me, Delta. There are a helluva lot of worse things I could do out of grief."

[in that case, i shall endeavor to convince you to not do those things.]

"Thanks, Delta." At least she still had someone to watch her back.

~*~*~*~

Like clockwork, Wash returned from patrol, not at all surprised to find Caboose there to greet him.

"Hi, Church!" Not even giving Wash a chance to correct him, Caboose went on happily, "We have a guest today! The yellow guy from across the canyon came for a sleepover and we're gonna roast marshmallows and sing songs and make macaroni art!"

"He's not yellow, dumbass, he's orange!" Tucker yelled from deeper within the base. "And it's not Grif, it's... some other dude. Came lookin' for you, Wash."

That made molars grind together and a hand go down to his pistol, thumbing off the safety. Wash stopped his hand coming halfway up- there was no point in trying to signal Caboose in keeping quiet, he'd just loudly try to figure why Wash was waving at him. He crept up the hall quietly, suddenly acutely aware of all the ways Church's armor didn't fit him, cataloging in the back of his mind which moves would be hindered and which would work best in such an enclosed space.

His options were wrenched from him the moment he reached the doorway as a hand closed over his fingers and the pistol grip, twisting him around until the bones in his wrist were grinding against nerves.

"I'd appreciate if you didn't point that thing at me. I'm not here to start a fight with you."

Wash froze. Even the pain screaming up his arm froze. He knew that voice, even as he'd never heard it quite like that before. He looked up into a gold visor framed by tan armor. "You... It can't be. You're dead. The Director told us you killed yourself!"

York's words were lined with teeth and a fury Wash had never known he was capable of. "Too bad for him. Because I'm going to hunt the fucker down and gut him. And you're going to help me."


End file.
